God Complex
by Ce.elle
Summary: Rukia comes home to find a naked, holier-than-thou man demanding to be dressed, fed and bathed. And she had zero idea who he was. Little did she know just how accurate first impressions can be.
1. One

**God Complex**

_Rukia comes home to find a naked, holier-than-thou man demanding to be dressed, fed and bathed. And she had zero idea who he was. Little did she know just how accurate first impressions can be. _

**~8~**

* * *

><p><strong>1.<strong>

Rukia wondered which course of action would deliver the most desirable outcome in the shortest amount of time. 'Screaming' was the first to register in her disoriented mind, but she found that with the height of shock she was in, she was momentarily muted. So that was not an option. 'Making a mad run for it' was a close second in her choice of actions, but she found that with the intensity of disbelief she was in, her legs were beginning to feel a lot like jelly. So that too was quickly negated from her fast shortening list. 'Hurling her bag of groceries' at him was becoming deceptively tempting, but even in her stunned state, she realised she would be left with no food for the week. So she decided against that too.

'_I'm in the wrong apartment.'_

That had to be the only logical reason that could explain why she was currently standing in her doorway, looking worse for wear, grocery bags in both arms, staring wide eyed, open mouthed at the very naked man, who was in turn staring right back at her in curiosity.

'_Definitely dreaming.'_

That had to be the only rational explanation that would enlighten her why there was a six foot tall, orange-haired, well-endowed man standing arms crossed, feet apart and staring at her like she was the one naked and letting it all hang.

'_I've gone crazy.'_

That was definitely it. Her low-paying, hard-working pathetic excuse of a job had finally pushed her over the edge, and now she was hallucinating Greek gods standing in the middle of her living room slash bedroom slash dining room in her tiny apartment. She supposed that if that was what it meant to be crazy, then so be it. It was still better than her mundane life working at that scheming insurance company.

"Great, of all people he gives me a mute."

Like the switch of an 'on' button, all at once Rukia screamed in a pitch so high it was only by an act of miracle that no glass had shattered, as she frantically threw her grocery bags, one after the other, at the once composed nude stranger.

"What the fuck?" Quickly ducking as broccoli soared just above his head, his hands flew to protect his family jewels, which unfortunately only fueled more screaming and more broccoli. "You're crazy too?"

With both hands covering his privates, his face tucked to the left side of his shoulder, he awkwardly ran towards the partially immobile girl and quickly tore her groceries away from her hands as he held her arms firmly to her sides. She looked at him incredulously for a brief quiet moment, before she belted out a shriek so loud he felt his ears ring. Hurriedly pulling both wrists into his one large hand and simultaneously hauling her inside her apartment and slamming the door, he raised his right hand and covered her mouth with it, effectively shutting her up instantly.

"What's the matter with you?" His golden light brown eyes flashed with annoyance as he spoke with his face only a breath away from hers.

She managed to attempt a scream of 'help' into his hand but it only ended up sounding muffled and incoherent. She tried to shake herself from his hold, and whilst his grip wasn't exactly painful, he still exerted enough strength to keep her completely immobile. In the midst of it all, she was becoming much too aware of how close his naked body was against hers that the only thing separating them from gyrating against each other was their hands between their abdomens.

He was so immersed in peeking at the girl with curiosity and confusion that he hadn't registered the soft flick of appendage against his palm. Glancing peculiarly at his hand over her mouth – the mouth beneath the death glare she was sending him – he felt it again, only this time it was longer, forceful and definitely very wet.

"Oh gross!" He jumped back several feet from her and held his hand away from his face that now looked nothing short of utter disgust.

Panting as she dragged her sleeves against her mouth to wipe the spit, death glare still very much in place, she demanded in her defensive stance, "Who the hell are you?" Figuring that she actually did not care for whom this psycho was, she continued, "Get out before I call the police." She warned.

"What the fuck do you mean 'who am I'? We told you I would arrive today-," And then he cut himself off, suddenly looking very skeptical, "Wait. What number is this little hut?" He drawled out.

She fumed mentally at his arrogance but still told him, "7."

Holy shit. He was in the wrong place.

"I don't care who you are, or, or what the hell you're doing in my house, but just get the hell out you creep!" She was so nervous she had literally backed herself up against the wall, never for a moment taking her eyes off of him.

"Oh yeah?" He smirked smugly at her, "Or else what?" He challenged.

She didn't miss a beat when she unleashed another scream that he was pretty sure was reverberating against the entire apartment complex. In a panic, he jumped at her hoping to shut her up again, but the girl was quick to dodge him this time as she scuffled clumsily into her apartment. Their positions now reversed.

"Okay, okay! Just shut up!" He put his hands up as a gesture to calm her down, "I'm just a visitor." He tried to convince her.

"You're naked!" She retaliated in incredulity, her face contorting in a mixture of embarrassment, disgust and fear. Finally her fingers brushed against the smooth wood as she gripped her baseball bat firmly in both hands. "Get out." She hissed.

"Woahh..okay calm down lady. Look at me, do I look like a creep to you?" He was trying to emphasize his point with a rhetorical question, but the meaning was lost on the girl.

"I'm calling the police."

She made a move to grab the telephone but her actions immediately halted when he warned, "You really don't want to do that, and plus, your phone's not working." He shrugged casually.

She looked at him suspiciously but still picked the phone up, only to hear no dial tone. In the span of that one second, her distress grew tenfold. "How-,"

He cut her off with a dismissive wave of his hand and an arrogant roll of his eyes, "Look lady, don't flatter yourself, if I wanted to have sex with you, I would have already. If I wanted to kill you, I could have done that eleven different ways that would leave you dead before you even hit the ground-,"

Okay judging by the sudden spike of fear in her outward appearance, perhaps that wasn't the best example to use to assert his trustworthiness. Still he continued unfazed.

"If I wanted to rob you, I couldn't. You have nothing worth anything. If I-,"

"Okay!" She cried, slightly exhausted by the tension, "I get it. So what do you want from me? Why are you in my house?" She hated to admit that he actually had a point. She had nothing valuable in her apartment worth stealing, he seemed to pose no threat to her well-being, and yeah, if he wanted to kill her, he could have done so with that insane strength he had.

Now that the threat levels were slowly disintegrating, she found her attention drifting to the fact that he was still naked.

"Wow, you call this a house? Lady you really like praising yourself-,"

"Whatever! What do you want then?" The day had already been so long and she was getting hungry and tired, today really wasn't the best day for this to happen. Or any other day.

"Just let me stay for the night."

"No."

"Why not? I'm harmless!" he sulked. "Look I'm very rich. If you would let me stay one night I'll grant you anything you want. Anything." He haggled her.

"A boyfriend." She bargained seriously.

He clicked his tongue in agitation, "I said I'm rich, not God..."

"If you're so rich then why are you here and with nothing?" She challenged.

"Um, I was.. robbed?" He tried, and upon seeing that she wasn't overly suspicious, he decided it was a viable excuse, "I was robbed. See!" He smiled at her as he put his arms out to demonstrate that he had been robbed of his clothing.

Immediately dropping the bat to shield her eyes and her reddening cheeks, she quickly cried, "All right! Just... just cover yourself up!"

If she wasn't so traumatised by the whole situation, she would have realised how incredibly physically blessed the man was. Sun-kissed tan skin over a well-built muscular body with a very handsome, albeit boyish, face. He was large, in every sense of the word. She however, _did_ notice his mop of orange hair (and she had visual proof that the carpet matched the drapes), she decided to make it her next objective to question whether he was a foreigner.

When she peeked through her fingers, she saw him tugging at her bed sheets.

"This will do." He said to himself.

"What are you doing?" Her jaw slightly agape.

"Covering myself up." He looked up at her innocently and spoke so naturally she had to wonder whether she was the one out of place here.

Whipping around to give him some privacy as he covered up, she spoke awkwardly, "You still need to put something on for your upper body, I'll go see if I have any oversize sweaters."

"Why would I need something for my upper body?"

"Because the sheets will only cover-,"

She was rendered speechless the moment he walked past her to get to the kitchen. Her jaw dropped. Somehow he had managed to twist the sheets in a way that it now draped over one shoulder and covered his waist down. Much like the Greek God Zeus. He was walking around dressed like Zeus. A God. This day really had to end soon for Rukia. Her sanity was hanging by a thread.

"Oi lady, are you gonna feed me or what?" He snapped his fingers at her as he opened the fridge and gracelessly began knocking everything everywhere.

Rukia winced at the constant clanging of jars hitting one another and side-stepped her groceries, now spread out across her apartment floor, to get to the man she had somehow inadvertently agreed hospitality to. Now that she had calmed down slightly, and the threat of this stranger had somehow dissipated, she realised that this man was nothing but clueless and possibly, true to his word, harmless. He was a conflicting image, with his outward appearance very much all man, except for maybe his somewhat boyish features, and his inward mannerisms of a boy.

"My name is Rukia. Not lady." She gritted through clenched teeth, as she snatched up the carrots laid scattered by his sockless feet.

The sun was quickly setting, which signaled night was near, which signaled she could soon fall into a dark abyss of oblivious bliss, which signaled she would soon be rid of this nightmarish day.

"That's nice." He replied nonchalantly, "What kind of food do you humans eat?" he mumbled to himself, still searching out the fridge.

She must've been more tired than she initially thought she was for her to be hearing things, because she was almost certain he had said 'you humans', "What?"

"I said I'm hungry." He announced somewhat impatiently, "You know, you're a terrible host." He brooded.

"Okay, get out." She looked at him as seriously as one could with one arm shouldering carrots and the other arm balancing packaged sausages.

"I'm kidding Riki!" He laughed, not even bothering to glance at her as he found something that piqued his interest.

"Rukia." She corrected.

"Sure." He replied offhandedly, not really paying any attention to the girl. "What's this?" he asked curiously, twisting the red jar round and round to gain a better look at it.

"Strawberry jam." she replied flatly, walking toward her living room slash bedroom to gather the broccoli she had hurled at him before.

He was still examining the jar when he realised she had said strawberry. "So it's food?"

"Yes." She drawled out, reaching for the bananas thrown all around her little television. She figured her fatigue made her guard drop when she noticed how easily she had allowed the boy to stay. Picking the baseball bat up again, she supposed some safety precautions were necessary.

"Can I eat it?" He knew what strawberries were, so he knew he'd like it.

"Okay." She hoped it was overdue.

"How do you eat it?" he was squinting at the lid.

He would have to earn his bread, so she reached into one of the kitchen drawers with an exhausted huff and handed him a spoon.

"I see."

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><p>Night had fallen and the skies were now littered with stars. Rukia sat opposite the intruder by her kotatsu table next to her bed, baseball bat resting securely on her lap. He had come to peace with her wielding her weapon, and therefore paid little attention to it. In the hour that he had invaded her apartment, she had managed to repack her groceries, change into chappy pyjamas, cook some instant ramen for herself – in which her companion only stared at in disgust before shoving a spoonful of jam into his mouth - and learn his name.<p>

After an hour of the Spanish inquisition, she had learned three things about Ichigo. Well four if you counted his name. One, he was most probably dropped on the head a few too many times when he was a kid. Two, he was full of shit, and three, he was full of shit. So really, she had learned nothing about him even after all his colourful answers. In an act to accumulate good karma, which in return she hoped would get her out of her godforsaken job, she convinced herself to still offer him shelter for the night in case he really was mentally retarded. And she was not going to kick a mentally retarded person out of her home.

That was an hour ago. At current moment, she had forsaken any good karma as she gripped her baseball bat.

He looked at her expectantly and waited patiently for a response.

"Get out."

"I didn't do anything!" He cried indignantly, slamming his fourth jar of jam on the kotatsu.

Her eyes glinted dangerously, "I said. Get out."

"I can't help it!" He angrily reasoned with her, "From where I come from, we don't have the same bathroom facilities! This isn't easy on me either!"

She couldn't believe his request when he had first asked it, and on top of that, he had asked it so casually. "I will not bathe you!"

"Why the hell not?" He demanded, genuinely puzzled.

She wanted to scream at him the innumerable reasons why the request was wrong on so many levels. She didn't even know where to begin. She wondered whether he was being serious, but basing from his reaction and the overall idea she had gotten of him, she knew he really wasn't joking. "B-because, I'm a girl and you're a boy! And I don't even know you!"

"What has knowing me have anything to do with being able to wash me? And besides, you've already seen me naked, so what's the problem?" He was simply mystified by the problem she was making this out to be. "From where I come from-,"

"I don't care what they do 'from where you come from'," she mocked, "In fact, I don't even know where you're from!" Her eyes zeroed in on him and immediately he turned his head away from her.

"Fine!" he relented, not liking the direction she was steering the conversation in, "At least show me how to operate your bathing facilities if you won't wash me."

Figuring it would be pretty harmless to show him, she decided she would compromise. "Fine."

"You're really not gonna wash me?" He sulked.

He received her answer when she simply stood up and walked off to her small bathroom and he could do nothing more but follow.

Her apartment was so small it took him only several long strides to get to the bathroom, the final place that made up her cosy abode. She had a toilet, one basin and a shower head over the bath tub in the narrow space. Kneeling down and reaching over to the shower handles, she didn't look at him as she began a hasty explanation.

"This knob here is for the hot water, this one here is for the cold water." She made a point to direct her finger to each knob as she explained.

"Twist it like so," and water started running, "and play around with it until you get the temperature ri- WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" She all but screeched when she had turned her head to see Ichigo sitting on the edge of the bathtub.

In the brief time that she had to explain, Ichigo had managed to undress himself of his 'Zeus' robe and had proceeded to move to the edge of the bathtub, in all his naked glory, _facing_ Rukia. She was eye-level with the nether regions of her companion and once again, she came face to face with his well-endowment. Literally. Her shriek was so sudden that Ichigo had quickly bolted into a standing position as though he had been burnt, his posture immediately tense and defensive.

"What? What'd I do?" He asked, unsure of what he did to warrant that reaction.

No amount of washing of the eyes would help her erase the image of Ichigo's _thing _so up close. Despite his unworldly blessed looks, it was still too much information in Rukia's opinion. "Why are you naked again?"

"Don't you get naked when you wash yourself?" If memory served him well, he was pretty certain humans too, bathed in the nude. But times could have changed, he couldn't be sure.

"Yes, but couldn't you have waited until I had left?" Her face was feeling so hot that she knew her blush was spreading to her ears and neck.

"Oh." He scratched his head sheepishly, "I guess."

"Just, can you please stand a little further away?" There was a desperate plea in her tone as she cringed to herself.

"Um. Okay."

He had taken a few meager steps back while Rukia hurried through the details. The small space had never felt as small as it did then, and it was suffocating her. Her words went on auto-pilot as she spilled out gibberish. Glancing back at Ichigo, and she went that extra mile to zone in on his face and just his face, she noticed that he was gazing at her funny. And that was when _it_ caught her attention.

It was slight, but it had moved. Risen.

"Stop! St- oh my god! How- w-why is _it_ getting bigger?" She spluttered, her mind going completely code-red.

With the water still running, she impulsively started splashing water at him, as though the pathetic flicker of water droplets that barely reached him would remedy her situation.

His hands were quick to cover his indecency. "Well what did you expect?" He replied defensively, his pride severely wounded by her reaction, "We're in a small space and you're fixing my bath and I think you're pretty, I can't help it." He pondered whether he was more surprised or disappointed by her reaction. This usually wasn't the effect he had on women. And yeah he wasn't afraid to admit that he was kinda expecting her to feel flattered, privileged even.

She was done here. He could bathe with toilet water for all she cared now. There was only so much her sanity could take. "Okay fine! Just figure the rest out yourself. The soap is there, shampoo is there, towels are here and enjoy."

And then, he was met with the slamming of the door.

Rukia belly flopped onto her single bed and wished she could just call it a day. She still couldn't believe she was living this situation. For the most part, it felt like an out-of-body experience, like she had been watching her exhausted self relent to a stranger for the pure reason that she had basically lacked the energy to fight him. Maybe she was going through her first quarter life crisis at twenty-two. She heard a loud yelp and some cussing from the bathroom, but she remained face down and unmoving. There was nothing that could impel her to walk in on him in the shower, regardless of the amount of shouting in there. She had seen way more than her share of manly nakedness than she had in her last twenty-two years.

She would spend the next twenty-two repressing the memory of Ichigo and his 'hardness'.

The yelling and swearing finally died down, and she found she was able to wonder more about Ichigo. What foreign country could he be from that could differ from Japan so much? He had kept telling her that she wouldn't know even if he told her, but so many things simply didn't make sense. He was, for the most part, completely clueless about everything. Clueless, yet arrogant. Perhaps he really was so rich he had been sheltered from the ways of an average and ordinary lifestyle. Rukia shook her head against her bed and figured she didn't need to be so concerned by it, he would be out of her life by tomorrow and her life would revert back to its monotonous routine.

Lugging her heavy self up, she went to pull out a futon for Ichigo. She hoped that with the futon out, he would take the hint and go straight to sleep, that way, she would be safe from any more scarring moments. For such an amazingly good-looking man, she really thought it was a shame that he was not quite all there in the head. Moving her kotatsu away from her bed, she tossed the futon in the middle of her bedroom/living room and folded a blanket over it.

She heard the bathroom door open and found herself stealing a glance at him as she busied herself with picking at the fluff from the blanket. He was back into his 'Zeus' robe that now clung to him like a second skin. His hair was a wet mess atop his head, but he didn't care as he strolled out languidly, obviously not fazed by their recent encounter.

"Thanks Ruki." He smiled at her, and she didn't have the heart to correct him.

"It's nothing-,"

She didn't get to finish because he had cupped her small face with both hands, leaned in, closed his eyes and kissed her square on the lips – open mouth. For a microsecond, her brain, mind, thought process and breathing ability completely shut down. When she managed to reboot herself, her eyes bulged out before she shoved him, and his tongue, off of her.

"YOU PERVERT!" She accused, wiping her lips with momentum.

He subtly flinched like he was stung, "I'm just showing you my gratitude." He pouted, folding his arms across his chest. "From where I'm fr-," He stopped himself when Rukia eyed him warningly.

"You showed your gratitude when you said 'thanks Ruki', and it's Rukia." She spoke through a clenched jaw, still making a point to wipe at her lips.

"Fine." He brushed it off and bypassed her as though she was invisible and proceeded to spread himself over her bed.

Rukia's eye twitched, "What are you doing?" She was pretty sure at some point during his stay she was guaranteed to pop a vein.

"Sleeping?" He replied nonchalantly.

She pointed at the futon beneath her and tried to reign in her frustration, "You're sleeping here."

"That's okay," He shrugged, "I'll just sleep here, you don't have to go through so much trouble for me."

"Okayyy," She drawled out, her patience running dangerously thin. "well all the more reason for you to get off _my_ bed." Her voice was quickly becoming strained as she willed her tolerance to hold out just a little longer.

"No." He replied flatly as he curled comfortably on the bed, "It looks uncomfortable down there, I prefer it here. What's the big deal, it's not like I'm saying I won't share with you." He spoke in a reasoning tone, which wasn't very reasoning at all.

"I'm not sleeping with you." She enunciated each word with clarity.

"I didn't mean sex."

"Neither did I." She shut him down dully.

"Oh." He mumbled slightly crestfallen, "Guess it's just plain old-fashion sleeping then." He sighed. "That solves that."

She wanted to throw the closest thing at him, and had that closest thing not been her television, he would've been knocked out in two seconds flat. "It solves nothing! I'm not going to share a bed with you."

"But there's enough room for two." He genuinely thought he was approaching this logically.

"It's a single bed." Where was the baseball bat when she needed it?

"We'll just have to hold each other then." He suggested.

"Definitely no."

"Are you sure?"

"Very."

He shrugged and turned over on the bed, his back now facing her, "I guess I'll have to respect your decision then. Goodnight Ruk."

He didn't get to see Rukia's jaw hit the floor.

_That bastard played me!_

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><p>A shower, some night time snack, some teeth brushing and an hour and a half later, Rukia was fast asleep on the futon next to her bed. The winter nights were progressively getting colder so she had made sure to layer on the blankets. Tonight however, she found her sleep fitful and abnormally <em>hot<em>. She was vaguely aware that she was breaking out a sweat when the heat slowly woke her from her slumber, and when she opened her eyes, she wished she hadn't.

Rukia wondered which course of action would deliver the most desirable outcome in the shortest amount of time. 'Go back to sleep and pretend it wasn't happening' was the first to register in her once sleep-induced mind, but she found that with the amount of shock she was in, there was no way she could go back to sleep for the next week. 'Screaming' was a close second, but she figured with the time that it was, she really didn't need her neighbours making complaints about her. So that was scrapped. 'Ridding him of any chance of ever being a father' was calling at her, luring her like candy to children.

Any hesitation flew out the window when he snuggled closer.

At the age of twenty-two, on a winter's night, Rukia woke up to find an orange-haired stranger sleeping next to her, arms around her waist, legs draped over her legs, head tucked in the nape of her neck... and naked like the day he was born.

Kuchiki Rukia would send him to hell that night.

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><p><strong>~8~<strong>

**AN: **In all my stories Ichigo's been a facebook stalking boyfriend, a mistaken gay man, the strongest captain in soul society and a King. So I thought what's bigger and better than all those characters combined? Well we don't know what he is just yet ;)

This may be left as a one-shot except I really do enjoy writing this, that's why for now I won't rule it off as complete just yet. It just depends on how much writing time I have.

Inspiration for writing this story came from some of the things reviewers have said to me in their feedback from other stories. What I took from it is the ability stories have to make a crappy day slightly less crappy. So to those who wished they never rolled out of bed today, hope this minutely made it worth your while.

Thanks everyone


	2. Two

**AN: **Just some silliness for the day :) This update came as a result of the (always) motivating responses from readers and reviewers, and I know it's taken me awhile to get this chapter out, but I was hoping to only go bigger with this chapter, or at least match the weirdness that was the Chapter One. Once again, it was an absolute joy writing this.

I remind everyone that this story is rated **M**. After reading this chapter you will definitely see why this is rated **M**. Mostly for its all round creepiness (cheapness), but this is undoubtedly rated **M**.

_Reader's discretion is advised._

* * *

><p><strong>God Complex<strong>

**2.**

**Of Male Anatomy and Saving Water**

**~8~  
><strong>

Byakuya speculated on the most effective action that would promise infertility in the most painful way possible. 'Castration' was quick to dominate any logical thinking in his livid mind, but given that he had no form of weapon on him, he decided he would not resort to pulling it off. Not with his bare hands. 'Cutting his penis off' also took to the forefront of his enraged state, but he found that in his almost animalistic state of mind at that moment, cutting one's penis off was the sole definition of 'castration', and given the aforementioned reasons against it, it was also an unfeasible option. 'Pulling the thing off with his bare hands' seemed like the only viable alternative left, but as it were, he realised that doing so would do little to pacify the rage that had already engulfed his usual regal composure. So he decided he would simply kill the man.

'_The body will be dumped at sea.'_

That had to be the only thought that brought him the briefest moment of serenity that would explain why Byakuya hadn't already kicked down the door to his sister's bathroom, looking not so brotherly and ready to inflict irreparable damage at any moment's notice.

'_It would be mutilated beyond recognition.'_

That had to be the only calming thought that would subdue his desperate footsteps from walking to the kitchen and arming himself with weaponry to begin his pilgrimage of making the sexual predator fatherless and half man.

'_And then, I will go after your family.'_

So it was decided. This low-life, disgusting pathetic excuse of a man would finally drive Byakuya to his mobster ways, and now he was standing inside the hut of an apartment, three feet away from the only barrier separating him and scum, waiting to make a woman out of this man.

"**Fine, use your hands then, just don't squeeze too hard."** Byakuya took the moment to calm his breathing and reassess the situation as he listened to the distinctly male voice impatiently instruct.

"**But it's so slippery now."** He heard his sister's voice echo meekly in response.

"**Well would you rather it hairy?"** Byakuya's typically stoic face twitched, which was as equivalent to a contortion of repulsion as it would ever get.

"**That's disgusting!"**

"**Fine, just.. just try touching it first, you might even like the smoothness of it."** Ichigo tried, sounding slightly exasperated albeit increasingly persuasive.

"**I doubt it. It's just so...long. Why can't you just do it?"** She was caving and Byakuya slowly readied himself to wreak destruction.

"**Because I won't be able to control my grip. I don't want to injure it."** That sex fiend was that desperate he couldn't even do the deed himself.

"**I've just never held one in my palm before.."**

"**Don't worry. This is a very natural thing. I'm right here to guide you." **

"**I'm not sure I can get it.. it's so small."** Byakuya dismissed the upward twitch in the left corner of his lips and convinced himself he saw no humour in this whatsoever.

"**It's not small! I've seen smaller, it's not small."**

"**Oh God, oh God, I'm holding it. I can feel it twitching.."** Byakuya gripped the door knob too late.

"**You're doing amazing, but your hands are too small, use both."** The dark ominous clouds gathered.

"**Is it supposed to be this hard?"** Little animals scurried for safety.

"**Sometimes. If it's nervous it'll stiffen up more."** Mothers prayed.

The first thing to break was the door knob before the door itself was almost ripped off its hinges. With an aura that promised of endless pain, Byakuya stood before the occupants in the tiny bathroom as they both blinked at him. Rukia stared in horror as her small hands were held awkwardly in front of her with a stiffened baby snake in her palms. Nonetheless, despite his sister's certain welfare still intact, Byakuya had already decided that any man nearing his sister was better off 'offed'. As in, finger-across-neck-motion off. So the ominous aura remained.

"Brother!"

"Brother?"

"Rukia."

"Hi, I'm Ichigo."

Death was approaching.

* * *

><p>Her disastrous day had continued to mount when she had approached her apartment, expecting to repress the previous night's events for much later in her life when she would undoubtedly find herself adding the story to her growing list of misfortunes to her overpaid and underworked psychiatrist. Instead, she had watched in slow motion horror the turning of her door knob as the door flew open before she was dragged in like a ragdoll and pushed into her bathroom being demanded to save "God's creature". She hadn't known what had caused her greater anxiety, the poisonous baby snake that had lain stationary in her basin or the fact that Ichigo had seemed shamelessly entitled to her apartment.<p>

One look at Ichigo and she decided that Ichigo could be standing next to a pit full of grown snakes and still be the cause of her premature hair loss.

It hadn't helped that Ichigo continued to shove her closer to the snake as though it posed no danger to her life. The situation definitely hadn't improved when in self-preservation she had pushed back as he had pushed her forward, ultimately leaving her back pressed up against his form amidst the chaotic yelling. And she felt everything. _Everything_. That had been motivation enough for her to leap forward and grab the snake. Of course it was here, after some questionable dialogue had been exchanged, and all higher spiritual beings decided that they had a sense of humour did they reveal to her the presence of her brother-in-law looking like he was standing in amidst a battlefield, ready for bloodshed.

That had been seven minutes ago. At current moment, her forehead was resting against the cupboards, waiting for the water to boil (or a hole to swallow her up, whichever came first) and listening to Ichigo drone on about god knows what with no inkling of the murderous aura that cloaked him as snugly as his robe.

"So if I adjust the warm handle first, wait for about 5 seconds, then turn on the cold water, the temperature should be about right. Well 5 to 10 seconds depending on the day's weather..."

"Groundbreaking. Who are you?"

"Brother!" Rukia intervened completely inconspicuously, what with the accompaniment of a jolt and a strangled cry, not to mention this was easily the fourteenth time she had randomly cried his name in a panicked rush. Absolute subtlety. "Your coffee." She sweat dropped, placing the aromatic black beverage atop the kotatsu from where he formally knelt, to which she found to her horror that Ichigo had mirrored his posture perfectly, sitting directly opposite her brother with his fists clenched above his parallel bent knees... under his scanty robe made of the finest cotton bed sheets.

Whether it was motivated by the novelty or by mockery, Rukia prayed to the Gods her brother took no notice, though knowing her great luck with bad luck, she was pretty sure Byakuya had seen it as the latter and Ichigo had done it for the former. And then to add insult to injury, Ichigo had felt the need to scrunch his face in repugnance as he eyed the coffee as one would to 'droppings'. At least he was civil enough to keep his thoughts silen-.

"Yuck."

Maybe Ichigo was asking to be mauled? Who was she to decide his fate and in what gruesome manner he chose to leave this world?

"So brother."

Said Ichigo.

"Byakuya." He corrected. Cue in background flash of lightning and thunder.

"What brings you here Brother Byakuya?" Ichigo asked so cluelessly Rukia almost wanted to crawl over from her spot between the two men, cradle his head between her modest chest and tell him that monsters only existed in stories.

But the desire to whip her baseball bat across his head for his profound stupidity lured her like nothing else.

"What is the meaning of this Rukia?" Byakuya finally managed through clenched teeth and the beginnings of a tumor.

Ichigo was not in the least bit perturbed that he had been blatantly ignored as he watched with curious eyes at Rukia, then at Byakuya, then back at Rukia before he reached for the spoon on the kotatsu and welcomed himself to more strawberry jam.

"Ichigo is a friend from out of town," She tried, ignoring the slight trembling in her nervous voice, "he's only going to stay for a couple of days.."

She realllllly hoped her answer would pacify her brother-

"Unacceptable."

Or not.

"You are unmarried and young. How will this look to your suitors asking for your hand?" Byakuya chastised firmly as he kept his eyes tightly on the orange-haired thug shoving spoonfuls of that repulsive red substance into his mouth.

Ichigo's eyes however, quickly darted to Rukia's small hands and wondered why anyone would want them.

"The truth is," Rukia sighed and prayed that karma wouldn't come to bite her in the ass for what she was about to say. Leaning closer to Byakuya she spoke solemnly, "Ichigo... how do I put this...he's NQR."

Byakuya frowned in slight apprehension and suspicion, "NQR." He repeated slowly for confirmation

To which Rukia merely mouthed back in affirmation, _"Not quite right."_ And nodded her head sadly.

Byakuya reassessed the man before him from down his nose and, after taking into account the man's choice of clothing, choice of sustenance, hair colour and his general...weirdness, Byakuya decided Rukia's story checked out. Byakuya tried to ignore the slight embarrassment for not realising earlier when it was so blatantly obvious that the man was mentally lacking, and slight guilt for having treated a sick person so ruthlessly cold.

Bowing his head at Ichigo very slightly as his sign of peace-making, Byakuya offered, "You are brave."

Thinking that brother was referring to the snake, Ichigo replied, "Thank-you."

Releasing a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding, Rukia laughed nervously as she deviated from the topic in fear that Ichigo and his infinite wisdom would somehow blow her cover.

"Brother, what brings you to this part of town?"

Feeling shameless and completely entitled to his intrusion of Rukia's privacy, he answered bluntly, "My private detective informed me of a questionable man loitering in your apartment, so I decided I would sort the matter out."

Rukia's mouth fell agape as she looked at her brother with deadpanned eyes, not quite certain which disturbed her more, that her brother had a private investigator on her tail or that her brother was capable of 'sorting matters out'. Again, finger-across-neck-motion 'sorting matters out'.

She was somewhat relieved that Ichigo had decided to add his input at this point because she was pretty sure her brain was beginning to function at minimal level, just barely enough to keep her slightly less NQR than Ichigo.

"I wish I had a dick too."

Judging from the sturdiness of the kotatsu and the estimated distance between the table and her head, given the right amount of velocity, it should be able to render her unconscious and if she was lucky, inflict permanent memory loss. Well here goes nothing...

"Brother Byakuya, how long have you had your dick for?"

"Ichigo!" Rukia shrieked in horror.

Ichigo flinched away from the small raven-head, "What?" He asked defensively, wondering what he had done wrong. Again.

"It's alright Rukia." Byakuya spoke forgivingly as he cleared his throat behind his fist, "It's merely slang for detective."

But it still did little to appease the growing urge to haul the berry through her glass windows and into oncoming traffic, and by the looks of it, it didn't seem like Byakuya would've minded being run over by some 1-tonne metals just about now.

Too educated and upper-class to discriminate, Byakuya spoke evenly – a stark contrast to the pain inflicted on his pride. "I've had my _detective_ for some time now. They cost a lot to hire, so I don't like to gamble on inadequate ones." He chose his words carefully, though to Rukia, it still sounded like a cheap pick-up line in a gay bar.

"Oh." Ichigo mumbled, slightly crestfallen, "I don't have any money right now.." and with a one shoulder shrug, he scrapped the remnants of the jam against the bottom of the glass jar, creating noise horrific enough for Byakuya to flinch backwards.

"How is Hisana?" Rukia tried to steer the conversation closer to normalcy, "Still busy with the art studio?"

Byakuya nodded, "She was about to close the studio one month ago, but she managed a substantial offer on some of her paintings."

"Private buyer?" By private buyer, she meant 'Byakuya'.

"Yes." By yes, he meant, 'not a word'.

"How lucky." By how lucky, she meant 'you're a good husband'.

"Perhaps it was just meant to be, I don't think it was her time to finish something she loved doing so much." By all that, he meant...well she didn't really know what he meant, and when she looked at him for clarification, he simply sipped his coffee, which again earned a 'yuck' from Ichigo.

Calmly placing the cup back onto its matching saucer, Byakuya made a move to stand, "It's getting late, I should take my leave now."

The sun had yet to set, and it really was only 5.30pm, but deep down somehow Rukia knew that her brother's feelings had been slightly hurt for his choice of beverage (as well as irreparable destruction to his dignity), and was therefore making a hasty exit.

Standing with him, both Rukia and Ichigo walked him to the door, a grand fifteen strides, before Byakuya turned, with strain, to face the two, "I'll see you soon Rukia," and then looked at Ichigo, with effort, "All the best."

After such a nice conversation with brother, Ichigo felt like he needed to say something too.

"Brother Byakuya, when I have some money, I'll be sure to use your dick."

* * *

><p>Night had uneventfully fallen and Rukia's apartment was finally engulfed in tranquillity as the heaters brought about a warm and cosy atmosphere to their newly shared living space. After one of the most scarring moments in her entire life, Rukia had secluded herself to her happy place in her mind, where Ichigo didn't exist and her bedroom wasn't a mixture of her dining and living room. Ichigo, without missing a beat, droned on about something else the moment Byakuya closed the door behind him as though his being there was wholly natural. But since Rukia had managed to zone him out, she had merely brushed past him as he too followed her lead and walked back to the kotatsu and switched on the TV.<p>

Not quite realising that his company was completely unwanted and his conversation unreciprocated, he remained pleasant as he watched with fascination at the moving pictures on the TV screen. Rukia, on the other hand, had continued on aimlessly around her own apartment without uttering a word and her face an expression of indifference. When her peripheral vision spotted the very thing she was in search of, she walked over like a child possessed. When she finally smiled, it wasn't without her baseball bat firmly in her right hand.

At present, two hours, and several neighbours knocking on the door after hearing cries of help, later, Rukia sat alone by the kotatsu as Ichigo sat near the doorway.

"I-"

"Not. One. Word."

Ichigo dipped his head a little as he nursed his wounds wherever the baseball bat managed to get. And to think it had been nothing but a prop.

Finally fed up with pretending to watch the news, Rukia made a guttural noise of frustration before she buried her head in her hands and groaned, "Why me?"

Ichigo peeked up but didn't say another thing. The baseball bat had taught him better.

"Why today?"

When Rukia suddenly heard a knocking sound, she looked up to see Ichigo knocking against the wall before waving at her as he started miming _'What's wrong?'_.

Rolling her eyes in exasperation, she wondered why she even bothered fighting against him. He was frustratingly indestructible. Or destructible, but always bounced right back after enough time. "You mean you didn't see how my brother looked as us like we were some kind of freak show?" She reminded sarcastically.

"Ah." He responded profoundly.

Dipping her head back into her hands, she moped out, "After I was fired as well."

"Oh."

Pillowing her head against her now folded arms on the kotatsu, she drawled out sarcastically, "Gee, thanks for your comforting words."

"Oh. Can I come back to the table now? It's kinda cold here."

"Whatever." She deadpanned, feeling more exhausted than she could ever remember as her eyes glazed over at the television screen.

With a triumphant smile, Ichigo quickly made his way from the doorway and crawled his bottom half under the kotatsu and instantly moaned at the warmth that enveloped his scantily clad body.

"And you're still here." She added as an afterthought, though she was a little disappointed that it lacked the bite that she was hoping to achieve, and ultimately came out sounding as though she was just stating a fact.

"So why were you fired?" Ichigo asked, a little more focused now that he was more comfortable.

She made a noise of disgust before she replied, still facing away from him so her voice was slightly muffled, "Because I refuse to kiss ass."

"Ew." Was all he could offer at the unwanted imagery, or wanted – just not with another man, as he too continued to watch the TV.

"Well you should see my boss then, he's the ugliest thing on earth, so ugly you'll probably cry after you see him."

"Really?" He asked although he really didn't care that much.

"Nah, not really." She admitted moodily, "He's actually not bad looking. Kinda hot in an 'I'm secretly a bad guy' kind of way."

"What's his name?"

"Aizen Sousuke." She answered flatly.

"Why'd he fire you?"

She shuddered having to recall the memory, "The perv was trying to hit on me, and I didn't respond well to his advances, so he fired me. Just like that, on the spot."

"Right." Ichigo replied calmly, eerily so, "What'd you say his name was again?"

"Aizen Sousuke. Ugh I wish he would just fall off a bridge or something. Wipe that smug smirk of his weirdly slicked-back haired face."

"I could wash the dishes for you if that would make you feel better?" Even though 'dishes' only comprised of two bowls and two spoons, Ichigo was still hoping she would decline his offer. He really had no idea how to do it but it just sounded like the right thing to say. Plus he really was just comfortable where he was.

"Nah. You'll probably just waste too much water." She stated as a matter-of-factly, before she pushed herself up, with apparent effort, "I'm going to take a shower. Just leave the bowls, I'll deal with them later." She said before she discreetly made a grab for her underwear in one of her drawers, to which Ichigo noted through his equally discreet peripheral vision that her middle drawer was the drawer that encompassed his interest.

"Ok."

But Rukia didn't hear him as she was already closing the half broken bathroom door as he spoke. The moment the door was closed, she wasted no time in stripping as she eagerly anticipated the strong spray of the hot water coursing down her body which she hoped would alleviate some of her stress. Stepping out of her underwear and adjusting the water temperature so that it was hot enough, she quickly stepped in and moaned at the instant gratification it brought her. She was particularly pleased that the spray was so strong, it was loud enough to empty her mind of her thoughts.

Reaching for the shampoo, she smiled at the softly scented smell of sweetness before lathering her short hair enough that droplets of white suds were beginning to gather by the drain. She was so content she couldn't even care anymore that she had basically had a new housemate forced upon her, nor did she care that she would officially be unemployed as of tomorrow, even the baby snake that lain in wait by the edge of the far end of the bathtub didn't bother her...

Oh boy. Ohboyohboyohboy.

Going through a quick rundown of her options and finding none viable, she stuffed everything to hell.

"Ichigoooo!"

She vaguely heard a commotion outside before a somewhat panicked _"What? What's wrong?"_ sounded through the door.

"The snake!" Her voice trembled in panic, "I dropped it before! It's still here and it's looking at me! It knows it's me, it knows!"

"_Okay, just calm down and grab it like I told you before."_ His muffled voice said through the door.

"I can't, I can't do it again! And I can't get to my clothes!"

"_Fine. I'm coming in then."_

"NO! Wait! I'm naked!"

"_It's that or you shower with the baby snake. Your pick."_

Squeezing her eyes shut and knowing this was a lose-lose situation for her, she turned around so that all he would see was her backside, and inched further away from the end of the bathtub, "O-okay, come in."

Not a second had passed before she heard the door creak open, and in less than twenty seconds, she heard him reassure, "I got it", and in the next five seconds, she faintly heard the door close again. Opening her eyes in shock, before thinking this was too easy and good to be true, she peeked over her shoulder only to confirm that he had indeed captured the baby snake (which he may have accidentally suffocated with his strength) and without trying anything, left her to her solitude.

She was touched. Maybe something good did come out of this day. Maybe he wasn't so bad. And maybe, he really was excruciatingly handsome. Damn him.

Reaching for the conditioner and continuing her routine with slightly lifted spirits, she again felt like nothing could dampen her mood, not the debacle with her brother and not even the arm reaching over her shoulder to reach for the shampoo.

Her stricken eyes widened in horror.

Definitely too good to be true.

The next thing she unleashed was a scream so loud, her neighbours were sure to bypass knocking on her door and going straight to calling the police.

"What?" Ichigo immediately responded urgently, pausing mid way through shampooing his hair as she clenched her eyes shut and quickly covered as much as herself as she could.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHAT? GET OUT!"

"But why?" He asked, as though it was the most reasonable thing for him to be there, "You said before you don't want me wasting water, so when I walked in here before, it gave me the idea that if we showered together we would save some water."

Reaching over her again to put the shampoo back on the ledge, the entirety of his front pressed against her back, she felt _it_ brush against her lower back.

'_Fuck'_ she heard him hiss discreetly.

That was it. There was only so much spit in the face she could take from the higher spiritual beings before even a sane person would lose it.

Grabbing the shampoo with force and instantly squeezing a substantial amount into her palm, she mumbled an apology before turning around to face him.

"Wow." But his eyes were far from her face, farrr lower.

And the next thing he knew, he was shrieking like a banshee.

* * *

><p>Ten minutes and a pair of blood shot eyes later, Ichigo was glaring moodily at the TV as he sat cross legged by the kotatsu with his hands resting defensively in his lap... his hair still wet with uneven chunks of shampoo.<p>

"I'm sorry I rubbed soap in your eyes." Rukia tried uneasily, sitting adjacent to him on the kotatsu, "But you shouldn't have been in there when I was showering." As much as she didn't quite regret her actions, she did feel pretty guilty for the harm inflicted on his now constantly stinging eyes.

"From where I come from, a man and a woman bathing together is a very natural thing." Clearly still quite upset.

Despite the fact that he almost always brought about near fatal cardiac arrests on her, she couldn't fault him on his harmless intentions. So instead of cornering him and demanding to know exactly where he was from, she merely conceded with an, "I'm sorry alright?"

"I hope you know that any chance you had with sleeping with me tonight has dropped from 'guaranteed' to only 'highly probable'." He said, thinking that the punishment would fuel on her regret, "And don't even think about sex."

Slow breathing. Slooow breathing. NQR. Slooowww breathing.

She would take the high road. The man was indestructible and profound in his art of stupidity. Undefeatable. Weirdo. High road. Happy place.

Glad for the tell-tale sound of a news break, both occupants directed their attention to the TV, exceedingly relieved that the distraction came when it did.

"_We interrupt this broadcast with a special bulletin. A man in his early thirties has fallen off the walkway bridge, the Yachiru Bridge. Eyewitnesses claim the man tripped before falling into the riverbank. He has since been rescued and has been examined for minor injuries. We have contacted the mayor Mr. Ukitake who has issued a statement reassuring that safety precautions are unnecessary as there have been no accidents along this bridge in the history of Tokyo, and has gone on to say that tonight's occurrence was an unnatural act of unluckiness. That may be true, but Aizen Sousuke may count himself lucky tonight for sustaining only minor scrapes and bruises. This has been Matsumoto Rangiku reporting to you live. Good night." _

After a few minutes of silence, Rukia's jaw finally dropped, "I think I have super powers." She breathed out unbelievingly.

"Mm." Ichigo grunted, still quite content to keep to his sulking.

"Wow."

* * *

><p>Some hours later and Ichigo still milking his moment of the unjustness of the world that he now bore on his shoulders (in his mind), the dark ominous cloud returned.<p>

Rukia wondered what choices she had available to her that would leave Ichigo begging for mercy in the most pathetic way possible. 'Reaching for the baseball bat' was the first to- forget it. She was done with today.

At the age of twenty-two, on a winter's night, Rukia had walked out of the bathroom after her pre-bed routine to find an orange-haired pervert looking through her middle drawer with her favourite pink chappy panties held securely in his left fist...his eyes wide and innocent as the day he was born.

"...I forgive you Rukia."

Death had arrived.

**~8~**


End file.
